


Me + You

by blacklitchick



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Richonne - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-09-23 19:21:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9672611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacklitchick/pseuds/blacklitchick
Summary: Rick and Michonne enjoy some down time after the events of the mid-season finale.





	1. Chapter 1

 

The sun had long set. Twilight had passed. Full blown night blanketed the outside. The quarter moon could be seen from the front window, but it didn't offer much light. Candles adorned the mantle, dining table, and kitchen counters. Michonne's head made a cozy hollow in the back couch cushion. Her legs stretched out on the coffee table, the trusty black boots she'd worn two days straight were long abandoned either next to the front door or upstairs. She couldn't remember which. Her hands rested comfortably on her stomach as it rose and fell with her each breath. She was grateful that the sounds of eggs sizzling in the frying pan and Rick's movements around the kitchen kept her awake.

She couldn't remember ever being so exhausted. Not on the many searches for the Governor. Not while walking to Terminus after the prison fell. Not even when they trekked through Virginia after their cars ran out of gas on the way to D.C. Only two things were keeping her from crawling onto the semi-comfortable pallet in their bedroom: hunger and the fact she wanted to spend some time with Rick. Just the two of them.

She heard the scrape of the large kitchen knife slice across the wooden cutting board. Though her body protested, she left her comfortable corner on the couch to help with whatever Rick was conjuring up in the kitchen. He was at the island cutting two, large tomatoes into fourths. Her heart fluttered as she watched him concentrate on the task. His shirt was untucked, hair a little wild, a hint of tongue poked out between his lips, feet bare - his boots were probably somewhere next to hers. His shoulders were less slumped. The grief is his eyes less haunting. There was still many a hard roads ahead for them, but he was starting to look like her Rick again. The man who would fight every monster in the world to protect their family. She resisted the urge to wrap her arms around his waist and bury her face in his back. Instead she took two of the fancy plates that came with the house out of the cabinet closest to the refrigerator. The gold pattern around the edges reminded her of the dinnerware her grandmother used every Thanksgiving.

"I told you I had it. You don't have to help." Rick squinted his eyes at her over his shoulder as he wiped his hands with a dish towel. "You should be resting."

She shrugged. "I know, but you're just tired as I am. I didn't feel right sitting there like I'm Queen of Alexandria while you did all of the work."

He took the plates from her before letting his lips linger on her cheek in a kiss. "I have news for you, baby," he whispered in her ear. "You are the Queen of Alexandria."

She laughed and shook her head. "Hush." He placed the eggs and tomatoes on the plates. "Looks good," she said.

"It's a strange combination, but it's what we had. Hope it tastes as good."

She trailed her fingers down his arm and kissed his shoulder. "I'm sure it will." He was no great chef, but she was touched by the effort he put in to make sure she had a good late night meal.

They settled at the dining table. The atmosphere took on a romantic feel with the candle light. Only thing missing was soft music playing.

He poured her a glass of water as she attacked her eggs. "It's quiet upstairs. Carl must have finally gone to bed," she said.

That afternoon Michonne had entered Alexandria with nerves prickling all over her skin. She'd rehearsed the whole way home what she would say to Rick to convince him they had to fight. Her nerves increased ten-fold when she walked into the chaos Negan left in his wake: further traumatized citizens and her teenage boy looking like a scared kid for the first time since they left Georgia. She thought Rick would be even less inclined to fight, but he was ready. He knew the cost of serving Negan was too much of a gamble. Those tears that fell from her eyes were joy, relief, and love. A love so deep it sometimes felt it would consume her whole. The disconnect between them had been another weight on her chest on top of the grief and anger. She could breathe better now knowing when the two of them worked together anything could be accomplished. They'd walked back to their home hand-in-hand with plans already formulating.

Earlier that night, with only a handful of stars visible in the sky, the muffled voices on the other side of the wall connected to Judith's room had an almost comforting cadence to Michonne as she rocked the baby girl to sleep. The father lecturing the son. The son trying to plead his case. Both understanding and rejecting what the other said. She had her own talk with Carl, and would probably have many more about what he did, but she knew her boys needed to work out their problems alone. No need for her to interfere at that moment. Their talk lasted for well over an hour. Judith was long sleep and Michonne had etched her space on the couch by the time Rick came downstairs.

Rick shook his head as he bit into his eggs. "I don't know what I'm going to do with him."

She sipped from her glass of water then wiped her mouth. "He's grieving, Rick. He's scared and naive and brave and has a heart so pure he can't stand to see the people he loves in pain. He wanted to avenge Glenn and Abe's deaths for Maggie. For Sasha. For all of us. He loves big. What he did was reckless, and I think he understands that now."

Rick stopped eating and stared at Michonne. "You really think so? He said he learned his lesson, but I can't be sure."

"Negan made all the trauma of getting shot and losing his eye come to the surface." Michonne closed her own eyes. When Carl told her how he cried when Negan made him take off the eye patch it took everything in her not to march down to the Sanctuary and put her katana straight through his heart. "He knows now that going on a wild killing spree isn't the answer. It'll take finesse and a lot more people to bring Negan down."

He shook his head. "I hope so, but the kid is so damn stubborn. I don't want him going rogue every time he disagrees with me."

"Well, I'm not saying he won't ever do anything again that'll give us premature gray hair. I mean he is his father's child after all." She winked at him.

Rick's fork clinked against the plate as he lowered it and tilted his head to the side. He studied Michonne, as she looked back at him with a grin, before speaking. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."

She smirked at him. "I'll let you figure that out."

He ducked his head down as he laughed and scratched at his eyebrow.

Michonne's smile faded as her lips set in a grim line. "He realizes Negan could have killed him at any time. He gets it now." Michonne felt a fresh set of tears start to pool at the thought of losing another child she loved.

Rick took his napkin and wiped at the corner of her eyes. "But he didn't. He's still here. We're still here."

Michonne kissed the palm of his hand. "Yes, we are." She gestured to his plate. "You all done?" She stood once he nodded, stacked his plate on top of hers and walked into the kitchen. The dishwasher took too much power to run so she sat the dishes in the sink. Washing could wait until morning.

Rick checked to make sure the front door was locked and secured. The stain of Spencer's blood could still be seen on the street in front of their house. He looked down and sighed before turning to watch Michonne as she blew out the candles in the kitchen.

She waited for him next to the stairs with a tired smile as she held herself sturdy against the banister. The exhaustion radiated off her. He wished he could whisk her away to some exotic location where they could lay on the beach as he kissed her pain and grief away. But they lived in a different reality so he settled for wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. Both let out sighs as her body molded perfectly against his as if she was the missing piece of the puzzle to his soul. He reluctantly pulled away after a short while. There was something that needed to be said.

Their hands swung between them as he held on to hers. "Michonne umm...it's no secret me and Spencer were never friends, but I know you were very fond of him. I'm sorry about what happened."

Michonne glanced out of the window at the blood stains on the street. She nodded. "I was fond of him. I felt I needed to be there for him to honor Deanna's memory. I never want to see anyone in our community die. I grieve for everyone we've lost." She pulled her shoulders back and looked Rick directly in the eye in pure warrior's defiance. "But he tried to make a deal with Negan to kill you. He doesn't deserve my grief."

Rick couldn't help the admiring smile that pulled at his lips. He squeezed her hand and kissed each knuckle. "I'm glad you're on my side."

"No place else I'd rather be," she said softly. "I don't take too kindly to people trying to get my man killed." She tugged her his hand. "Come on, let's go to bed." With their fingers still interlocked she lead the way to their bedroom, but paused at the top of the stairs. "We should bury him out in the clearing, next to his mother. She would want that."

Rick nodded. "Yeah. We can dig a grave for him before we leave tomorrow."

* * *

Rick knelt on the floor and adjusted the baby monitor. Judith was still sound asleep. He unbuttoned his shirt as he listened to the sound of Michonne's electric toothbrush above the gush of the water flowing from the faucet. He sighed in contentment at hearing the familiar sounds. Things were still heavy and probably wouldn't be back to normal - whatever normal was to them - for a long time, but he had a sense of joy at being back on the same page with his love.

He took off his shirt and threw it in the corner before walking into the bathroom and straight to the shower. He turned on the hot water then closed the shower door. It always took a few minutes for the broiler to warm the water. He crossed his arms over his bare chest and watched Michonne's reflection through the mirror as she rinsed her mouth a few times before gargling with the only bottle of Listerine in all of Alexandria. She patted her mouth dry with a washcloth and met Rick's admiring gaze in the mirror.

She tilted her head to the side - a habit she'd picked up from him. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shrugged with a crooked smile. "I like watching you do your nightly routine. Seems like it's been forever since the last time."

She nodded. It had been less than a week since the nightmare of Negan began, but it felt like a lifetime. "Yeah, it does." She lifted her hands to release her locs from the headband, but Rick walked up behind her to halt her movements. She let her hands fall to her sides as he pulled the fabric off. He brushed her locs over one shoulder then bent down to kiss the opposite one.

She reached her arm back to take a handful of his soft curls. He moaned at the feel of her hands in his hair. Her head laid in the crook of his neck while her eyes remained open just enough to watch how they stood intertwined through the mirror. A sound between a moan and a sigh escaped her lips when he cupped her breasts through her tank top and squeezed.

With his hands on her hips, he maneuvered her body around to face him before pulling off her shirt. His lips immediately found her shoulder again. Then her neck, her ear. His hands caressed the smooth lines of her back and then found way to grab her ass.

Michonne exhaled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I missed you," she whispered.

He kissed her temple, her cheek, her chest. "Felt like I couldn't breathe these last few days without you," he said between kisses. He unbuttoned her jeans and pulled down the zipper. His hands massaged her ribcage before going lower, below her bellybutton. He brushed against the silk of her panties as he slid her tight jeans down her lean legs. He fell to his knees to help her step out of the rough denim.

He kissed her calf, the back of the knee, both thighs, her stomach. Michonne leaned against the counter, her breaths coming faster. Her hold on his hair was tight as he inhaled the scent of her arousal then kissed the wetness between her legs through her panties. He raised back to his full height. She followed his lead by unbuttoning his jeans as he worked to unhook her bra. He let the thin lace fall to the floor. His lips were immediately on her breasts. He sucked on the nipple of one while his fingers gently rolled the other. The grip of her fingernails was so strong, ten half-moon indents were carved on the back of his shoulders.

The cool air coming in from their bedroom mixed with the heat from the warmed up shower and Rick's incredible knowledge of how to make her body sing had her feeling intoxicated. She pushed him away slightly to catch her breath. Steam filled the bathroom making it feel as if they were surrounded by fog. He watched as she slid her panties off and stood before him completely naked. Seeing her in all her glory never failed to take his breath away.

She opened the shower door and stepped inside. Rick wasted no time ridding himself of his jeans and boxers in order to join her. The steam was even heavier inside the stall. He pulled her naked, wet body against his. His own arousal was apparent as his hands roamed over every inch of her body, wanting to feel every part of her. He had to make sure she was real and he wasn't trapped inside a dream as he waited for that bat to kill another member of his family. Their lips touched softly at first. With one kiss followed by two, three, and four more. His tongue slipped inside her mouth first and the intensity shook him to his core. Their tongues danced together under the heat of the water as the kiss held all the pain and love and joy inside them. He felt safe with her in that shower. It was as if time stood still and they were the only two people in the world.

He broke the kiss first and whispered while looking into her eyes. "I was so scared when you didn't come home. Then I found your hair on that walker." He shook his head. "I'd given up hope. I tried to stay strong for everyone else, but I couldn't. You're the one that keeps me strong, and I thought I'd lost you forever."

His curls were now wet and slicked back on his head, but that didn't stop Michonne from running her fingers through his hair. "I was scared too. I didn't know what was going on and then they pulled us out of that van. I saw you, Carl, and everyone." She moved her hands to his face as she caressed his wet beard. "When he took you away in the RV I think I held my breath until you returned. I thought he was going to kill you." They couldn't discern the tears that ran down their cheeks from the water pouring over them from above.

"But he didn't," Rick said.

"No, he didn't. We're still here."

"Don't ever not come home again."

She smiled through her tears. "I'll always come back to you, Rick."

They kissed her again – hard, urgent, and so deep he lifted her off her feet. When they pulled away to catch their breaths, his hands seized her hips and spun her around so her back was pressed against his chest. He grabbed the lavender scented body wash and squeezed a quarter sized portion on a washcloth. Pure adoration and desire colored his eyes as he worshiped her body, trying to wipe away all her pain. He started with her breasts and worked his way down making sure every part of her was given ample attention, pausing only to capture her lips in lazy kisses or to leave tiny bites on her neck or shoulder. White suds covered her down to her feet. As the water washed the soap from her body she turned and took the washcloth from his hands. She glided the cloth over his flat stomach in reverence. Her hands lingered over his defined arms and sculpted pecs as he closed his eyes and held his head back to revel in her touch.

She bent down to her knees as she ran the washcloth down his legs while kissing the muscles of his strong inner thighs. Her plump lips teased him by sucking gently on the head of his penis then sliding the whole shaft down her throat and back out again. Both his breath and his hardness became so intense he thought he would explode at any moment. When Michonne stood again, he pushed her against the shower wall and lifted her left leg. She didn't hesitate to wrap it around his waist as she stood on the tips of the toes of her right leg. Her hands gripped the towel rod as he slowly entered her while sucking on the base of her neck. Their moans could be heard over the roar of the water as rocked into her over and over again.

* * *

Michonne laid on her stomach - naked, relaxed, sated. Rick propped himself up on his elbow next to her. His hand roamed down her back, over the curve of her backside, and back up again. The pallet wasn't nearly as soft or inviting as their bed used to be, but they both felt as if they were laying in a royal palace. They had each other and that's all that mattered.

"I don't want to speak hyperbole, but I do believe that was the best shower I've ever had," she said.

Rick chuckled. "Not hyperbole at all. I'm right there with you."

She turned her head so she could see the clock. "It's late. I told everyone we'd leave for Hilltop first thing in the morning."

"Mmmhmm," he said before he bent down to kiss the small of her back.

Michonne's body jerked as she felt her nether regions begin to respond. "If you keep doing that we'll be up all night."

He gave her ass a light smack. "That wouldn't be a bad thing."

Michonne turned to her side and used her index finger to tap Rick's grinning lips. "Down boy."

He kissed her finger and laid his head next to hers. "Yes, dear."

She laughed as their legs intertwined. Her head laid on his chest as he took her into his arms. "I had time to do some thinking when I was on my mission," she said.

"What'd you think about?" He twirled one of her locs around his finger.

"A lot of things. How hungry I was." He chuckled softly. "If I was really going to find what I was looking for. Hoping you and Aaron were safe. Tara."

"Tara?"

"I thought about how she was out there doing what she could to help the community and didn't know the woman she loved was dead. I thought about how Sasha would never know the extent of how deep her and Abraham's love could grow. I thought about Maggie losing the love of her life while carrying their child. I thought about how I was so angry, but I still had the love of _my_ life and I wanted nothing more than to have him by his side."

Rick stop his ministrations and stared down at her. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make me feel...," he shook his head in awe trying to find the right words, "...make me feel like I'm worthy of your love, trust, loyalty."

She lifted herself on her elbow so she could see his face clearly. "Don't you know how wonderful you are?"

He looked down, embarrassed by her praise. He shrugged. "I wouldn't say I'm wonderful."

She cupped one of his cheeks with her hand. "Your problem is you ingest all the bad you think you are, savoring it. Running it through your mind over and over, but you never take the time to appreciate all of the good you do. All the good you are. You're the best man I've ever known."

He shook his head. "I don't deserve you."

"Of course you do. You deserve the world, Rick. Through our anger and grief you kept us all together. You took the brunt of Negan's torture for the off chance he would leave the rest of us alone. There's no better man out there. No other man I could ever love nearly as much as I love you. It's just not possible."

His eyes became glassy as he nodded his head and bit his lips. Her words always had a physical affect on him. She made his soul rejoice from the power of her love. He pressed his lips against hers. "I love you. I don't have the eloquence to fully express how much. Just know you're my world. I can't do this life without you."

She snuggled back into his arms. "You won't ever have to. It'll be me and you always."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I decided to make this into a series of stories about Rick and Michonne spending time together away from the chaos. Just them together – Me + You. The stories will be kinda / sorta intertwined. This takes place after 7x10 but before 7x12.**

* * *

Happiness was a rare and fleeting creature in the tense times of the apocalypse. Any day could make a quick transformation into devastation. Savoring the pockets of joy they were lucky to find was necessary to keep moving forward in the new world. It was one of the hard lessons Rick had learned since waking up from his coma two years prior. He had forgotten it for a time after their latest nightmare, but never again. Relishing in his current bliss had him sitting on the piles of blankets of the makeshift bed, smiling. The map and his mug of coffee in each hand were forgotten, eclipsed by the vision before him.

Michonne.

She stood in their closet pulling clothes from the hangers then folding them neatly into her backpack. Her locs were piled on top of her head in a messy bun. He loved seeing her hair up – it showed off the elegant lines of her neck. He wished she'd wear it that way more often instead of only in the privacy of their bedroom. Though he felt privileged he was the only one to see her that way.

He appreciated that she only wore a t-shirt that barely grazed her thighs and purple boy shorts panties, but what truly made him drink in the sight of her was the small serene smile on her face. Her happiness was everything to him. Knowing Negan hadn't destroyed all her joy gave him back some of the hope he hadn't felt since that night.

Feeling the power of his gaze, her eyes found his, her happiness now focused on him. She walked up to the foot of their pallet and tilted her head to the side. "What's with the big smile?" She asked, her voice tinged with amusement.

He dipped his head down - still smiling - before meeting her eyes again. "I'm enjoyin' the view." He placed the map and coffee mug on the floor and settled back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Is that right?" Her smile brightened and stretched as she playfully kicked his socked foot with her bare one. "Watching me pack is that interesting to you?"

"It's more about the beautiful woman who's doin' the packin'." His southern drawl was heavy and relaxed as he grinned at her. "Never seen a person happier foldin' clothes."

"You flatter." She chuckled lightly then shrugged. "My grandmother always said neatness is a virtue so I might as well be happy doing it. I was the only kid at camp who took the time to make my bunk bed and straighten up the cabin before going out to play."

"I'm not surprised. This bedroom did get a lot more organized when you moved in."

"Yes, Mr. Leaves His Coffee Cups Everywhere." She looked pointedly at the mug on the floor next to him.

He lifted his hands in the air in mock surrender. "I promise to do better."

"Yeah, right." Their laugher - as it often did lately - filled the room. "But really, I'm just happy our plan is coming together. Happy to finally get some alone time with you."

His eyebrows lifted, grin widened. "Me too. Very happy about that."

Michonne was sure the lust in Rick's eyes matched her own. She bit her lip and turned her attention back to the closet knowing if they stared at each other a second longer they'd be naked on those blankets in no time.

Rick continued to watch her pack until he was hit with a fit of yawns. He rubbed at his watering eyes as his body gave away his exhaustion.

"You sleep OK last night?" Michonne asked, concerned. "I felt you tossing and turning."

"Yeah. Just hard to get comfortable on the floor." He felt guilty for telling her this half-truth, but he didn't want to worry her about his lack of sleep.

"Tell me about it. I know we still have a lot to be grateful for with a nice house behind a gate, but I miss that mattress a lot."

"Maybe we'll find some new ones on our run. Law of averages say we're due for a win."

"Long overdue." She pointed to the map next to him. "Did you figure out our route yet?" She bent over to pick a shirt up off the floor.

Rick became distracted by the perfect curve of her backside over her firm thighs. He rubbed his hands against his jeans feeling the urge to palm it in his hands. The purple of her panties made the smooth, dark skin of her legs look even more luscious than usual. He felt a familiar stirring in his jeans and subtly tried to adjust himself. He cleared his throat and licked his lips before answering. "Figured me and Aaron went North last time so we should head South."

She nodded. "Makes sense. The opposite direction of the junkyard." With three pairs of jeans and shirts packed neatly in her bag, she moved over to the dresser to sift through her bras and panties. "Speaking of which, do you think we can really trust Jadis and her people?"

"They're a weird bunch, but it's all we got right now. Hopefully, Daryl is working on changin' Kang Ezekiel's mind." He picked up his mug again and took a sip of coffee.

"Mmm," was all she said.

"What?" he asked.

She turned to face him "You know I love Daryl like a brother, but he's not exactly known for using his words or his diplomatic skills."

Rick cocked his head to side then nodded. "Can't argue with that, but maybe he'll surprise us."

"Maybe. They really are strange though."

"The Kingdom or the Junkyard?"

She paused to contemplate. "Both really. But Ezekiel seems like a kind and caring leader. Morgan wouldn't have stuck around if he wasn't. He'd fight for his people but doesn't want to do it just yet. He's the total opposite of Gregory. That junkyard crew though." She shook her head. "Why do they talk like that? I mean we've been in this new world for only a couple of years. Not nearly long enough to develop a new way of speaking. Seems like a very calculated act they're putting on. Then there's the fact she pushed you down into that trash thunderdome. I haven't forgotten that. She's lucky we need them right now."

Rick never failed to get turned on when his love went full warrior. He glanced at her sword resting against the wall. Jadis was very lucky indeed. "Hopefully once we give them their guns and finish with Negan we won't have any more reason to do business to do with them," he said.

"I want all our communities to come together for the greater good, but my gut is telling me something is up with them. Though like you said they're all we have. Anyway," she turned back to the dresser. "if we're going south maybe we'll hit the coast. Have a beach day," she joked.

"I'd never turn down seein' you in a bikini."

"I don't have one so we'll have to make it a nude beach." She winked at him over her shoulder.

Rick bit his lip before letting his eyes roam down her body. "Definitely wouldn't turn that down either."

She playfully threw her bra at him before their earlier lust could come back. "Down boy."

Michonne covered her mouth and giggled when the bra landed on Rick's head. He grabbed the thin, pink cloth and traced the intricate rose patterns woven into the C cups with his finger. "You should definitely bring this one with us."

She took out a pair of pink lace panties. "It'll pair well with these." She twirled them around with her finger.

Rick practically leaped to his feet and was in front of Michonne in less than a second. The panties were forgotten and dropped to the floor as Rick lifted her in the air. Her legs - on their own accord - wrapped around his waist. Her shocked giggles soon gave way to delighted moans when he pressed his lips hungrily against hers. He walked two steps forward until her back was against the wall.

He released her lips and started kissing her neck. She leaned her head back as far as it could go against the wall to give him better access. "I thought we were going to wait until we were alone tonight," she said breathlessly.

"No time like the present," he mumbled between kisses. The heat of his breath against her ear sent shivers down her spine.

Just as quickly as he leaped to his feet he maneuvered them down onto the blankets. His body covered hers as their lips met again. Rick became caught up in the sounds of her moans and the feel of her petite body wrapped around his. The only other time he'd been in love felt like a lifetime ago. He looked back on those good times at the beginning of his marriage as if they were a faded picture - no longer able to remember if those feelings matched what he had with Michonne. Though he didn't think so. Loving her wasn't like anything he'd ever experienced before. It was as if waves of euphoric fervor were hitting him all at once.

He pulled away from the kiss to gaze into her eyes while running his index finger down the side of her face. The lust was still there as they became lost in each other, but there was something else too. Something mere words were too mundane to describe. A vibration only they could feel.

Rick knew from the moment their lips touched the first time on that couch it was love - a deep, soul stirring love. He'd said those three words to her just the other night. They were on the tip of his tongue at that moment, but he couldn't push them out. A dull ache in the pit of his stomach felt like a premonition. Their joy was fleeting. He wouldn't have her in his arms forever. Their love was on borrowed time.

Michonne could sense the change in his mood immediately. She brushed back the curls laying unruly on his forehead and rubbed her foot down his leg. "What is it, Rick?"

He gave her a peck on the lips. "Nothin'. Thinkin' too much. You know me."

She tilted her head to side and watched him closely. "You want to talk about it," her voice took on the soft tone she only used with him.

He rested his forehead on hers. "Nah. It's not important."

She knew that wasn't true, but she let it go. He would tell her when he was ready. She tightened her arms around his neck and looked around at how they were sprawled on the blankets. "How do we always end up here?"

He shrugged, smiled again. He pushed down the darkness and returned to savoring the woman in his arms. "We're just makin' up for lost time."

Michonne laughed and pulled at the curls at the nape of his neck. "Ah, OK. So that's it." She tapped him on his butt so he could move from on top of her and sat up. "Is that oatmeal I smell coming from downstairs?"

"Yeah. Told Carl to make breakfast. Part of his punishment for that stunt he pulled with Negan." He sat up too and stifled another yawn. "Since Gabe and Tara will be keeping an eye on him and Judith while we're gone, I told them Carl's services are theirs to use with laundry, pantry duty, or anything else they can think of."

"The Grimes regime bringing back child labor," Michonne joked. "Can't say he doesn't deserve it though."

"Had him sew up my pants too." He pointed to the stitching. "The boy is talented with a needle and thread."

She ran her fingers along the neat threading, impressed by Carl's work. "I was going to say I thought I threw these jeans out yesterday, but I kept it to myself."

"These are my best jeans." His smiled faded into a slight frown as he defended his favorite piece of clothing.

"Rick. You know that's not true." She pointed to his side of the closet. "You have at least three other pairs of nice pants you can wear."

"All of those are stiff. Don't feel lived in. These have history," he said completely serious.

"They're going to fall apart soon. No amount of sewing will be able to fix them."

"These jeans are as much part of me as you and the kids. I'm in for the long haul with them." He looked down at his lower half as if he was proud of the staying power of said jeans.

She just shook her head and beamed at him, giving up on her argument knowing there was no way she was getting him out of those things. "You're adorable."

He chuckled and scratched at his eyebrow knowing how ridiculous it was to be so attached to a piece of clothing. "I think my mom is the only other person to ever call me that." His hand found her knee, always needing to touch some part of her. "Speaking of adorable what are you going to do with your new cat?"

Michonne looked at where their new, rusty friend was lounging on the dresser. "I have no idea. It seems out of place in this house. Such an unusual looking guy."

"I know it's not much. You deserve the world, but all I can give you now is mints and thangs from a junkyard."

"I don't need gifts, Rick. Those things don't matter anymore. Everything I need is in this house."

"You may not need 'em, but you deserve 'em."

She intertwined their fingers together. "Such a romantic."

He kissed her hand. "What kinda gifts did you like gettin' before?"

"Flowers were always nice. Especially purple tulips." She closed her eyes thinking back to her life before. "I liked one of a kind handmade jewelry. I was never a diamonds and gold girl. I loved artwork. Rare first edition books. Red wine. I had a pretty big lingerie collection. I liked feeling sexy underneath my clothes." Michonne giggled as Rick's eyebrows almost shot up to his hairline at that piece of information.

She picked up the pair of panties that had dropped to the floor, brushing the soft lace against his lips before tucking them into the front pocket of his buttoned-down khaki shirt. He watched, titillated by her antics, and swore he could smell her intoxicating scent through the fabric though they were fresh from the dryer.

"Victoria's Secret?" he managed to choke out though his throat felt tight.

"No. La Perla and Agent Provocateur mostly."

"I've never heard of those places in my life."

"Fancy stuff that probably wasn't worth all of that money now that I think about it. Like I said though, it doesn't matter anymore. Now that cat." She pointed at the feline. "That cat is what's important."

"I think we should leave it there on the dresser."

Michonne scrunched up her nose and shook her head. "I don't know if I want to wake up to it staring at me every morning. It'll look better downstairs. Maybe in the yard."

"Not the yard. We should make him an indoor cat like the one in your cell back at the prison. You woke up to it every day."

"Yes, but Jasmine was full of life." She leaned forward still examining the rusty wires of their new pet. "This one is less cheery."

"Jasmine?" he asked confused.

"That's what I named the other cat."

He chuckled. "Oh. It did look like a Jasmine."

"I can't believe you even noticed her."

"I noticed everythang about you back then. Still do."

"I thought you were keeping a close watch on me those first few weeks because you didn't quite trust me yet."

"After King County I trusted you completely. Carl's word was all I needed. As the days, weeks, months went on I knew how lucky we were to have you there. From the start you intrigued me. You became part of my core family, then my best friend, and more. Much more. My everything." He placed their intertwined hands over his heart. "Sometimes I think I put too much on you with all the shit I go through. I hope you know how much I appreciate you."

She laid her head on his shoulder. "I do, Rick. You show it. Everyday. Don't think for a minute this is one-sided. You saved me. All the happiness and peace I have now is because of you."

He put his arm around her to pull her close. "Is it too early in the morning to be this sentimental?"

She chuckled. "Probably, but it's only us here so we're fine. Tell me what else you noticed back when were lived at the prison."

"A lot of thangs."

"Like what. Tell me."

"Like how you'd wake up an hour before sunrise to exercise in the yard alone. Not even taking a day off when it was freezing outside. Or how you always looked back to give Carl one last wave before you galloped away on the horse to go try to find the Governor."

"He always tried to talk me out of going," she said "I wanted to make sure he knew I would be OK so he wouldn't worry."

"Never stopped either of us from worrin'"

She nudged his shoulder with hers. "What else."

"Umm...how you always piled your plate with cucumbers and carrots when the crops came in. But you never touched the tomatoes. How sweet and patient you were with Beth when she wanted to learn hand to hand combat. How you were always so enthralled by Hershel's stories. I noticed how your body would stiffen and you'd close your eyes briefly as pain flashed across your face every time you saw Judith. How you'd immediately walk off in the opposite direction. That's when I knew before you ever told me that you'd been through a parent's worst nightmare."

She tucked one of her locs - that had escaped the bun - behind her ear and dipped her head down. She nodded with tears framing her lashes. "You're constantly surprising me, Rick. I knew you were a good man from the start, but to think we'd end up here." She shook her head. "I would have never imagined, but there's nowhere else I would rather be."

He sighed in contentment and held her closer to him. "Me either."

She looked back up at the cat. "Hey may not be as beautiful as Jasmine, but there is a certain charm there."

"You're gonna have to name him too."

She laughed. "Give me a few days to think of one." She looked over at the clock. "I better get in the shower. We need to leave after breakfast."

She tried to stand, but he grabbed her waist to pull her back down on his lap. "Stick around a little while longer. We have some time."

Giving in without a fight, Michonne straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him place a series of soft, lingering kisses on her plump lips. His hands massaged her sides, stopping at the curve of her hips. He adjusted her position as he went in for a deeper kiss. The smacking of their lips and the hitch of their breaths echoed in the room. Rick's hands moved underneath her t-shit to grasp the soft mounds of her breasts. She pulled away from his lips when she felt his growing hardness on her thigh.

"Is that another present you have for me Officer Grimes?" Her voice was low and sultry.

His hands moved down to grip her ass. "It's yours if you want it."

"I always do." She grinded her pelvis against his arousal.

He moaned then abruptly hissed in pain as she inadvertently brushed against the cut on his leg.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Rick. Is your leg OK? I shouldn't be putting weight on it." She said concerned she was hurting him.

"Don't worry about it, baby. I'm fine. Besides you're tiny. You could stay here on my lap all day."

"That's just what you want," she teased.

He laughed and kissed her on the forehead. "It's true. You found me out."

She gave him that beautiful smile he loved. Her joy at seeing his joy shined through. "I like you like this."

"Like what?"

"Happy and smiling. It looks good on you."

"Someone special told me it was OK to smile. So I'm smiling."

She cupped his face with her hands, feeling the soft whiskers of his beard. "You're just too damn handsome. Even more so when you smile."

He shook his head, red coloring his face - embarrassed as always when she complimented him.

"You don't think you're handsome." She stated more than asked.

"I never really thought about it."

"I'm sure all the girls had crushes on you in high school."

"Nah. Not me." He pecked her on the lips. "You on the other hand…"

She winked and shrugged. "I did all right."

"I bet you did." He flipped her over onto her back and lifted her shirt, leaving wet kisses up and down her taut belly. Just as he hooked his thumbs in her panties to pull them down their reverie was broken.

" _Dad this oatmeal is going to get cold and gross if you and Michonne don't come down now,"_ Carl yelled up the stairs.

They both signed as Rick rolled off her. "I can't wait to be alone with you," he said.

"I love our kids, but a couple of days of just me and you will be heaven."

Rick raised on his elbow to look down on her. "Or more."

"More days?" She looked at him curiously. "We probably shouldn't stay away more than two days at a time."

"It might take us a while to find the guns. It could be three, four, five days."

"Well, let's see how it goes."

He smiled. "OK. We'll see."

She tapped his lips with her finger. "There's that smile again. I love seeing it on your face. Now," she stood, "I really need to get in the shower."

His eyes followed her as she sashayed into the bathroom. Once he heard the shower turn on he stood and walked over to the window. There wasn't much activity outside yet. Rosita stood on top of the gate, her face in a scowl that had become permanent. Her gaze traveled down the empty roads and fields that stretched out in front of the community.

He always expected Negan's trucks to appear at any moment, eager to play their cruel games with him and his people. Michonne's voice rose above the spray of the shower as she hummed a tune. He sighed and pressed his head against the cool glass of the window. He always felt off when she wasn't by his side. The happiness seeped out of him if he couldn't feel her energy. All that remained was the fear and anxiety about what came next mixed with the grief he couldn't shake for the friends they'd already lost.

Casualties were a part of war. There was no getting around that. The trip with Michonne was going to be a respite from the reality of their situation. He wanted to stretch it out for as long as possible because he knew both of them would be on the front lines. Their mortalities were staring him in the face and he couldn't shake the feeling that this was it for them.


	3. Family Creed

**A/N: Post season finale installment of the series.**

* * *

 

"Dad's not going to like this."

"It'll be fine."

"But he told me to keep an eye on you. Pretty sure he didn't want us taking field trips."

"Oh, now you don't want to be a rebel."

"What? I always do what Dad says."

"Carl Grimes have you forgotten who you're talking to?"

Carl's low chuckle was almost identical to his father's. "OK, but I don't like this either. You should be resting."

Michonne stopped her slow and tentative shuffle to clutch onto Carl's shoulder. Her body had started to wobble to the side and she needed to steady her balance. "I've rested for two days. I'm as rested as I'm gonna be under the circumstances. Time is too precious right now. I know I'm needed." She closed her eyes and then opened them again to look at the small grave marker in front of her. "And I needed to see this. To process that it's real."

Carl watched Michonne's face closely as they stood inside the community's small cemetery. Though her left eye was no longer swollen shut, the puffiness underneath remained. Cuts and bruises still marred her face. The markings were a constant reminder of her fight with the dumpster diver every time she saw her face in the infirmary's bathroom mirror. Though her normal graceful jaunt was absent, she tried her best to hide the pain that still racked her body as they stood directly under the afternoon sun.

Carl was grateful that the fight hadn't knocked the fire out of her though he still worried. Fear and a deep sorrow had immediately taken over his body when he thought she had fallen to her death. Losing Michonne would be like losing a mother all over again. In his mind, there was no future for himself, his Dad, or Judith without her. He grabbed her hand as she tried stoop down to place a small bunch of yellow flowers on Sasha's grave. Her sharp intake of breath as she stood upright again was a clue to him that she still had some recovering to do.

"I can't believe she's gone," Michonne said, her mind lost in thoughts of Sasha. She always thought of the younger woman as a little sister. There was a quiet pride inside her as she watched Sasha transform from her self-destruction to someone willing to love and live again. But now she was gone. It wasn't fair even though every day was a gamble in their world.

"Sasha saved us." Carl couldn't get the image of a walker Sasha lunging from that casket at Negan out of his head. The man's shock and outrage would have been comic if the whole situation wasn't so sad and awful.

Michonne nodded. "She did. Sasha gave us another day with a chance. I just wish there would have been some other way than sacrificing herself. She deserved so much more. Her life is more blood on Negan's hands." She sighed as her eyes traveled across the parts of the community she could see from where they stood. The streets were clear and quiet. There was almost no evidence the first battle in their war had taken place less than 48 hours before. Her eyes lingered on the patch of grass where Rick told her Negan had him and Carl down on their knees again only to be saved from death and mutilation by the grace of an odd man and his exotic pet.

"So Eziekel's tiger huh?" She gave his arm a comforting pat and watched him from the corner of her eyes.

He stuck both of his hands deep into the pockets of his dusty jeans. "Just in the nick of time," he muttered

"Were you scared when Negan was about to swing?" Michonne prodded further.

The boy looked down, the hat covering whatever expression he had on his face. "No."

Michonne used her index finger to raise his chin so he would make eye contact with her. "You can tell me the truth, Carl."

He shrugged then looked down again. "Yeah...yeah, I guess I was," he mumbled. "But I was ready for it."

She felt a sudden sadness at him being ready to die for the good of the world. Again, just like his father. She wondered if either of them realized she'd never be ready to lose them.

"Nothing wrong with being scared. You're still the bravest person I know," she said to him.

Carl shook his head not ready to accept her compliment. "Glenn and Abraham flashed through my mind. I remembered how they screamed and how they looked after Negan was done." He cleared his throat feeling as if the memories were about to choke him. "So yeah I was scared of the pain, but I wasn't scared of Negan." He looked up at her defiantly. "I'm never going to be scared of Negan."

"Fear is natural. Bravery comes from feeling that fear and doing what needs to be done anyway."

"I guess so." He kicked at a rock with the toe of his sneakers. "It would have been cool if Shiva would have eaten him though."

Michonne answered with an affirmative snort. "That would have solved a lot of our problems."

"Maybe we'll get lucky next time."

"Maybe. His luck has to run out sometime."

Carl nudged her with his shoulders; a smirk at the corners of his mouth took away his melancholy for a moment. "So, you think I'm bravest person you know. More than Dad?"

She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and winked at him "Oh, yeah. So much braver."

Carl's light moment left almost as soon as it appeared. His face creased in seriousness again. "Thanks, Michonne. For always being there. And for not dying"

She kissed him on the forehead. "I can say the same of you. Especially the not dying part. Like I tell your Dad, we're the ones who live."

He nodded and bit his lip, deep in thought for a few moments. "Can I ask you a question?" he asked eventually.

"You know you can."

"Do you believe in heaven?"

Michonne tilted her head to the side wondering what brought on that question. "I don't know. I used to believe in something higher than man. Not so sure what to believe now."

Carl nodded while he worked on kicking the rock again. "I've been thinking about a lot about God lately. Ever since I was shot again. With everything that's happened in the last two years I don't see how anyone can still believe. Mom and Dad never really took me to church, but my Grandma used to make me go whenever I stayed over. She thought all good people would end up in heaven. But it seems like a lot of good people are suffering here right now. If there is a God what's the point of letting us suffer like this?"

Michonne exhaled deeply as she thought about the heaviness of the question. "There are no easy answers, Carl. A lot of horrible things have happened in the world. Long before walkers roamed bad things happened to good people. I don't think we'll ever know the truth until we die. Until then we just have to keep living and loving and fighting for each other the best way we know how."

"If you did think heaven was real would you have tried to take your life after Andre died?"

"Whew." Michonne felt her body wobble again as the magnitude of Carl's question hit her like a physical blow.

"I'm sorry Michonne." His words came out in a rapid-fire pace. "I shouldn't have asked that." He held onto her firmly to make sure she didn't fall over. "It was a stupid question. Forget I said anything."

Sincere fear was all over his face that he'd inadvertently hurt her. It touched Michonne's heart. She hugged him close.

"It wasn't stupid," she reassured him softly. "It caught me by surprise." She pulled away and held onto his shoulders. "Truthfully, back then even if I knew heaven was a guarantee I wouldn't have tried to get there. I didn't think I deserved anything good any more. All I wanted to do was suffer and punish myself."

"But it wasn't your fault. What happened to Andre I mean. It wasn't anything you did wrong."

She nodded. "I know that now, but back then no one would be able to convince me otherwise. Remember I told you I thought I was a monster."

"Yeah, and now I'm the one that looks like a monster." Carl tried to joke, but Michonne saw through to the pain underneath.

"You are not a monster, Carl. Not in looks, not in body, and not in soul. Negan is a monster. The Governor was a monster. Those Terminus cannibals were monsters. You're my Carl. Sweet, brave, funny, and wonderful. Never forget that and never let anyone let you think otherwise."

Carl hated to cry in front of anyone, but he knew Michonne would never make him feel like a baby or less than the man he was becoming for showing his emotions. At times, he felt she was the only one he could be himself around. She treated him both like an equal and a son. He desperately needed to feel like both. He felt like crying both tears of sorrow for all their loses and tears of joy that Michonne was a part of their lives.

"I'm glad you stopped punishing yourself," he said to her after he willed his tears not to fall. "And that you stayed with us."

"No place I would rather be," she echoed the words she'd said to his father just a few days before. "Answering questions about whether there's a heaven is well beyond my pay grade but I'll tell you what I do believe in. Family. Love for family. The fact that I found you, Judith, and your Dad in all of this let's me know so much good is still possible."

Carl finally rewarded her with a smile. "Yeah. That sounds like something good to believe in."

"Glad you agree. Now, let's go -"

"What are y'all doing out here?" The gruff southern tinged voice rang out over them, cutting into Michonne's words.

Michonne and Carl looked at each other then over their shoulders at Rick who stood at the entrance of the cemetery. Worry and exasperation covered his face.

"Looks like we've been caught, kid," Michonne stage whispered to Carl.

"Toldya so," he said with a smirk.

Rick long strides – with boots clicking loudly on the pavement and the Colt swinging from his hip - got to her in less than five steps. "Why aren't you in the infirmary? I was out of my mind when I couldn't find either of you."

"I made Carl break me out," she said taking the fall for the both of them. Her hand immediately reached out to stroke his beard. She knew how her touch calmed him. As if he was one of Pavlo's dogs, on cue he closed his eyes and turned his head into her touch. "Didn't mean to worry you. I just needed out of that room. I want to go home. Back to our house." Her voice was soft and soothing.

Rick's larger hand enveloped hers as he brought it to his lips to kiss her palm. "Michonne, you're still healing. The infirmary is the best place for you. There's a bed and medicine there."

"I'll sleep better at home. We have those cots we brought back with us. The medicine is just a few pain pills. Carl can always bring me more if I need them. Being in our home with you and the kids is all he healing I need right now."

Rick shook his head and looked up into the sky, the lines of his face creased as it did whenever he was deep in thought. After several long seconds he looked down at her and shook his head again. "The first, and I mean the first sign of you not healing well and you're going straight back to the infirmary."

Michonne stood on her toes and kissed the corner of his mouth. "It's a deal."

Rick wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to his body before looking over to Carl. "It's hard saying no to her, isn't it?" He asked his son.

"Impossible," the boy agreed.

Michonne shrugged. "Then you two should stop trying."

Carl laughed. "She's gotta a point, Dad."

Rick sighed at being ganged up on by the two of them. "Gabriel and Tobin need help putting up some more reinforcements on the wall," he said to Carl. "Go give them a hand. I'll take Michonne home."

"OK, Dad." Carl gave Michonne a quick kiss on the cheek then ran off.

Rick held her hand as he led the way to their home. Their bodies were close together in case she needed to lean on him. "You're stubborn you know," he said to her.

"Well," she gave him a wryly look, "if I'm becoming too much of a burden, you do have options out there. Trashier and more monosyllabic options."

His eyes widen and mouth hung open slightly. "Don't even joke about that." He was not amused as Michonne chuckled as she felt a shudder go through his body.

* * *

 

Rick perched himself on the edge of the closed toilet seat as he watched Michonne submerge herself deeper into the hot water. She moaned in contentment. She hadn't felt this relaxed since the mini "vacation" with Rick to find the guns. Her hands gently touched the bruises on her rib cage and abdomen as she tried to massage the aches away. The bubble bath Rick had added to the water covered most of the purplish blemishes on her body from view. Though she knew had bad is looked. Rick had sucked in a breath with anger and worry burning in his eyes as he helped her undress minutes before.

She looked up to meet those eyes. A touch of lust was there now as some of the bubbles melted away and more of her body became exposed. But more than anything there was concern and love there. She smiled to try to reassure him.

"I'm OK, Rick."

"I know." He reached out brush his thumb over her cheek.

She held onto his hand. "Then why are you looking at me like I'm made of glass?"

He rubbed his other hand over his face. "Because no matter how strong and capable I know you are, the fact that I'm in love with you makes me worry. Makes me hate to see you in any kind of pain."

Her face softened. "Good answer."

He smiled at her. "Thank you."

His hands worked to unfasten the elastic band from her hair letting her locs fall over the front of her shoulders, stopping at the tops of her breasts. When she reached for the body wash, he pulled a washcloth from the basket of clean laundry near the door.

He held it up. "Need some help?"

She reached out her hand to him. "Only if you join me in this tub."

Rick bent forward to kiss her forehead. "Nah. This is just for you. I don't want to hurt you."

Her hand was still out and she used her fingers to beckon him to her. "You won't hurt me, Rick. I'd feel better if you're in here with me."

He raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"There's nothing I'm more sure of right now."

Rick stood and stripped down as Michonne watched. He met her eyes head on as she looked on appreciatively when he slipped off his jeans and boxers after pulling his t-shirt over his head. He carefully stepped into the tub behind her. Once he settled in, she leaned back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and yawned when he laid his head back on the tiled wall.

"Have you slept since we were on the road?" She asked realizing the whirlwind their lives had been since Tara told them about Oceanside and the guns. There had barely been a moment to breathe or talk about anything other than business.

"Not really. Between everythang with the guns then being with you in the infirmary and taking care of the community there hasn't been time for sleep."

"You need to make time, Rick. You can't keep going 24/7 with no rest. Come to bed when I do tonight."

He kissed her shoulder again. "OK."

"That was easy. I thought you put up more of a fight." She snuggled her head into the crook of his neck.

"Never want to fight with you, baby. You're right about the sleep as usual. And you know I'm never going to pass up a chance to get in bed with you." His voice was slow and languid as he relaxed more in the bath.

"Good." Michonne combed her fingers through his hair; the heat from the steam of the water already turning the curls damp. After the talk with Carl earlier her mind was filled with thoughts of war, God, and lost loved ones. But being there in Rick's arms made all the pain evaporate from her mind if only for the moment. Sometimes just being near him was the only medicine she needed. "You know when we first arrived here, I was sleepwalking through life. I was so lost. While we were on the road all I wanted was a safe place to stay and food on the table for us. We finally had that here and I still wasn't happy. I think subconsciously I knew I was supposed to be with you. I needed to be. It wasn't a home yet until we were together."

"I didn't deserve you back then. You were sleepwalking, but I was lost and out of my mind. I left it somewhere in Terminus. You picked me up off the floor. You always do."

"You do for me too, Rick. You always do too. That's why I'm ready to get back out there and fight to keep what we have. I know we agreed that we can lose each other for the greater good, but I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen. We both got a taste of what it would feel like and it's not something I want to re-live again."

He held her tighter being careful not to squeeze her bruises. "I don't either. Thinking you fell off that balcony gutted me. Made me think back to when you didn't come home after going after Daryl. I waited at that gate for hours. Sick with worry. Crazily enough Abraham was the one that gave me some comforting words."

"Really?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. I know. He was surprisingly articulate about certain things. He was a good man."

She nodded. "He was. He gave me advice when we first got here and I was feeling out of place. He was drunk, but it was good advice nonetheless." She sighed deeply. "The last month has been...just horrible. Abraham, Glenn, Sasha. You were right when you said our little vacation wasn't a cure. We're still hurting."

"It was perfect though. Being alone with you was everythang."

She turned her head to the side so she could look up at him. "It was. I could have gone a few more days too."

"One day we'll get away again. No mission. No preparing for war. Just me and you spending time together."

"Oceanside was a pretty nice place. We could trade some things with them for one of the isolated cabins. Spend a week there…" She trailed off.

He kissed her shoulder. "It's a date. Wish we could go now." He bent his head down slightly to whisper in her ear as if he wanted to make sure his words were only for her even though they were alone in their bathroom. "What we're facing won't leave my head. Especially at night or if you're not near me. Sometimes I get scared to tell you I love you because it feels like the last words in a movie before something bad happens," he confessed.

She grabbed onto to the curls at the nape of his neck. "You can always tell me you love me, Rick. Always." Her whispered words matched his tone. "Nothing bad is going to happen because of it."

Her words evoked the courage he needed to let go of his irrational fear. He kissed her softly on the lips. "I love you. I love you. I love you."

She laid her head on his chest. "I'll never get tired of hearing that."

His hand moved down to caress her stomach. "Are you hungry? I can fix you something to eat after the bath."

"I could eat a couple of bites of something." She patted his knee under the water. "You're such a nurturer."

His brow creased. "Nurturer? Never would have used that word to describe myself."

"You're that and so much more. I can describe you as many different archetypes. Provider, warrior, nurturer. You're a complicated, beautiful man and I love every part of you."

"Even the crazy part?"

"You're not crazy, Rick. You're handling this world the best way you know how like all of us are trying to do."

Rick kissed her again. "You're amazing."

She caressed his cheek. "Right back at you."

He squinted at his watch that he'd left on top of his pile of clothes. It was close to dinner time, and the water was starting to get cold.

"I could stay in here with you forever, but Carl should be home with Judith soon. I need to figure out what we're eating for dinner," he said.

Michonne leaned forward so he could step out of the tub then he helped her up as the water started to disappear down the drain.

Rick wrapped her in one their large bath towels as he gently dried her off. She was about to tell him she could do it herself, but she knew he liked taking care of her. And she liked being taken care of by him.

He moved the towel down her body being careful not to hurt her. He periodically looked up to make sure no pain distorted her face as he worked around the bruises. He used a cream Tara found in the infirmary that helped with the swelling and pain of her injuries. His tender touch as he rubbed it in made her moan in contentment. He kissed her belly button then stood to help her to tie her hair back again with the elastic band. Once she was sufficiently dry he pulled one of his oversized t-shirts over her head. He finished by sliding her robe on over the t-shirt and tying the belt loosely.

He dressed again in jeans and his brown t-shirt, never one for getting into relaxing clothes before it was time for bed. He wrapped his arm around her waist as he guided them down the stairs. When he looked over at her to make sure she was OK, he was surprised when she was watching him with a beautiful smile on her face.

"What?" He asked, but her smile was contagious and he soon wore a big one of his own.

"I'm feeling a lot better."

"Good. You were right about needing to be home."

She intertwined their fingers together. "It's more than that. It's being with you. Spending time with you is what I needed because wherever you are is home for me."

Minutes later when Carl came in holding a happy Judith in his arms his own smile blossomed on his face when he saw Rick and Michonne, in a moment of levity, with their arms wrapped around each other in a sweet embrace at the bottom of the stairs. He knew then more than ever Michonne was right. There was nothing like the belief in family.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi all :) Just a quick note to say that I'm total spoiler free about what's going on in the show. I'm in the dark about the happenings of this season so any story I craft is just a figment of my imagination. I like going into seasons and episodes knowing as little as possible. If you can keep all reviews and comments (which I adore and thank you to all who leaves them) spoiler free for those of us who want to stay in the dark, I'd gladly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy the story. :)

 

It was a rare quiet moment in their household. Since the first battle with Negan the kitchen had acted as a war room. Family and friends gathered to discuss plans, strategy, and scenarios. Coffee and Carol's cookies were in constant flow to keep their weary eyes open. When sleep couldn't be avoided for another minute, their couch was one of the crash and nap spots for a Hilltop or Kingdom solider who needed rest in between shifts.

Tonight was different. Their plan was set. Nothing more needed to be discussed. It all began tomorrow. Most of their guests were now posted at various checkpoints between Alexandria and the Savior's compound waiting for the signal from their leaders. It was the peace before the war, and Michonne welcomed it.

Carl had logged many hours as both a strategist and a guard. He was now passed out on one of the mattresses The Kingdom had kindly donated to them with his baby sister curled at his side. Michonne wished she had Aaron's camera to capture the moment. As if she could sense tomorrow was a big day, Judith didn't want to leave her brother's presence. They both had fell asleep as he read her a bedtime story. She took the book from Carl's hands then placed a pillow behind Judith to secure her in the bed. She tucked a blanket around both. Two quick kisses to their foreheads and a whispered wish for them to have a restful and dreamless sleep didn't stir them from sleep before she closed the door.

Back in her bedroom she took off her robe and laid it across the chair in the corner. It was after ten, but her body wasn't quite ready for sleep yet. The steady pressure of water from Rick's shower was the only sound in the house. She listened for a couple moments before silently easing out of the room and going down the stairs.

He had tried to coerce her into joining him in the shower even though she had taken hers earlier. Temptation almost made her give in, but she needed the quiet time to herself. Both would wake well before sunrise. They'd most likely spend the last minutes before daybreak intertwined around each other, making love, before they had to go their separate ways to continue the war.

The light from the partial moon beckoned her outside to the front porch. Autumn was soon to come if the chill in air was any indication. She slipped a heavy, long wool cardigan over her tank and shorts. The porch steps felt cold under her bare feet as she took a seat on the second to last one. She breathed in the fresh air and exhaled slowly. The more she breathed, the more the tension of what was to come left her body. Seconds, minutes, close to a half an hour passed. Her mind cleared as goosebumps from the cold dotted her chest and shoulders where her cardigan had slipped down. Eventually she heard the familiar footsteps behind her she knew would soon come.

"Michonne?"

Without moving from her position, she knew he was scratching at his eyebrow and squinting down at her before looking up and down their deserted street for any signs of trouble.

"Yes?" she asked back.

"Everythang all right?"

She turned and looked over her shoulder at him with a smile. "Everything's good. Just enjoying the quiet."

He nodded and smiled back at her. "You wanna be alone?"

She beckoned him over. "No. Not at all. Come sit with me."

He sat one step above her, cocooning her with his arms and legs. He grabbed her hand and kissed her wrist. They always held hands like teenagers in love for the first time. Her palm would pulse as he held on tight. It was as if they merged more and more into each other with every touch.

"You have a good shower?"

His free hand massaged the spot at the base on her neck. The spot he loved to kiss because he knew how much it turned her on.

"I did," he said. "Could of been better though."

She tilted her head to the side to give him more access to her neck as he bent down to give the spot a kiss. "We would have still been in there using up all the hot water if I had joined you."

"A cold shower never hurt anyone."

Her chuckled turned into a soft moan as he continued to kiss her neck then behind her ear. "That feels good. Better watch it though. Keep kissing me like that we'll be getting indecent right on this front porch."

He moved his hand underneath her cardigan to discreetly squeeze her breast. "I wouldn't say no to that."

"Rick!" She admonished. "We do have a teenager sleeping upstairs. I don't think he'd be too happy with everyone gossiping about the two of us getting it on for the whole community to see."

He gave her breast one more squeeze then moved both hands to her shoulders "OK, I'll stop misbehavin'."

She closed her eyes as he started massaging her shoulders. "You're good with your hands."

"So you've told me. Again and again and again."

She giggled. Without seeing him she could hear the cocky smirk in his voice. "I can't with you."

She leaned back against the soft white t-shirt covering his chest. She could feel some of the dampness that still clung to his skin. A drop of water from his wet hair escaped and made a tiny puddle on her shoulder.

"It's peaceful out here," he said after kissing the top of her head.

"The quiet is nice after all of the chaos of the past week."

"And more chaos will come tomorrow." He sighed. "It's gonna be a be a fight."

"Same thing I said back at Hilltop all those weeks ago. Feels like a lifetime has passed since then."

"I keep thinking about that day. Wonderin' what I could of done differently to prevent all this."

She tilted her head up to look at him. "You know that doesn't help, right?"

"What?"

"Would have. Could have. Should have. It only brings on more stress. That's something none of us need right now."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I know I am."

Rick laughed and kissed her bare shoulder before straightening her cardigan up. "OK, I get it. Let's not talk about war or Negan or anything like that right now. Morning is going to be here sooner than we think and that's going to be our whole world for a while."

Michonne laid her head back against his chest again. "Sounds good to me."

He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. His thumb traced small circles around her ring finger. "Why didn't you ever want to get married? You know before the world changed."

She lifted her head and scrunched up her face. "This is what you want to discuss tonight?"

He shrugged. "I've been curious about it for a while. I know you and Mike were together for a long time. Marriage never came up?"

"How do you know if was me that didn't want to get married?"

"Because what man would turn down the chance to marry you?"

She ran her hand down his cheek. "Ever the charmer."

"Not trying to be charmin'. Just telling the truth. You're special. Any man who's able to win your heart is lucky beyond belief."

"You consider yourself lucky then?"

"Luckiest man from here to the Hilltop and beyond." He bent to kiss her lips with a loud smack that echoed down the quiet street. "You still haven't answered my question though."

She exhaled and shook her head. "I don't know. I never felt the need to. Love is love no matter if you were an official couple in the eyes of the government or not. I've never been against marriage, but it's never quite been on my radar either."

"You'd be beautiful as a bride though. Long white dress with your hair up."

"You thought about this a lot, huh?"

"I've thought about you in various states of dress and undress. In fact, I was thinking about you undressed while I was taking my shower."

She laughed and playfully slapped his thigh. "You're bad."

"Nah, just a man in love. I've never seen you wear white other than a shirt. I know you'd be beautiful in a white dress." He ran his hand down her arm. "So beautiful," he said softly.

"Orange was always more my color," she said as her hand automatically laid on top of his. "Never was a fan of those big, white dresses. Or the whole traditional wedding motif really. Stiff tuxedos on the men. The bridesmaids looking identical like stepford wives. Not my thing."

"You could have made it you own."

"I know, but it didn't seem worth the trouble."

"Lori wanted everythang traditional for our wedding. The biggest church in town. Ten bridesmaids in pink dresses. Me and the groomsmen in rented tuxes. The whole day was a blur. If it wasn't for the photographer I probably wouldn't remember any of it."

"I've heard a lot of people say that. All that planning and it goes by so fast."

"Lori made all the decisions and arrangements. I just knew when to show up and what to wear."

"See, I wouldn't want to plan such a big event that's supposed to be special to both people all on my own."

"It's the way things were done where we're from. Tradition had the women planning the fancy stuff and the men showing up. I don't think Lori wanted my input anyway. I would have chosen beer, burgers, and Hank Williams, Jr. for the reception."

"That sounds awful," she giggled. "Can't say I blame her for leaving you out if that was the case."

He bent down to lift her chin so he could look into her eyes. "Does it bother you to hear these things? When I talk about Lori. I mean I not sure how all this goes. You're only the second serious relationship I've ever had. Am I not allowed to talk about anyone before you?"

She smiled and shook her head at his sincerity. "You're adorable." She maneuvered her body to sit sideways on the step so she could see him fully. "I think all of those relationship rules went out the door about two years ago. And no, it doesn't bother me. We both loved other people before we knew each other existed. The love we share now isn't less genuine because of that. There's no need to be threatened by our pasts. Our love is probably as strong as it is because we learned and grew from the mistakes we made with Mike and Lori."

He tucked one of her locs behind her ear as he stared into her eyes in the way that made her whole body quiver. "And some things are just meant to be."

She kissed his palm. "That too."

"It's almost macabre how it took the dead to start walking for me to find and fall in love with my best friend."

"Don't get it twisted." She pointed her index finger at his chest. "I'm the one who found you."

He smiled fully in the way he reserved just for her. "You did. I'm forever grateful you showed up at the prison that afternoon. You're everything I never knew I needed. Everything I never knew I wanted."

A cloud passed over the moon covering them briefly in darkness. His hands clutched her to him. Her head buried into his chest. They were lulled into silence by the natural sounds of the night and by their thoughts of the day they met. At the time, it was one of the worst days for the both of them, but it turned out to be when everything they thought they knew changed. Rick didn't know where him or the kids would be without Michonne. Michonne didn't know where she would be if she hadn't found family again.

"Back during our trip you asked what came next," he said after a while.

"Yes, and we agreed that we'll reorder all of this together."

"We did, but I'm also wonderin' what comes next with just me and you outside of working with the communities."

"What do you mean?"

He paused then held on to her hand again, running thumb over the top. "Well…I always liked the idea of calling the woman I loved my wife."

"Why?"

"So the world would know she was mine."

"Being possessive isn't your style."

"Not like that. I've never been that guy."

"I know you're not. I never met a man that's more of a gentleman and respects women as much as you do."

"I think a man should be proud of who he chooses to share his life with. To me saying that's my wife shows that this is the only woman I want. I was taught by my Dad that a man's wife should be the most important person in his life. I mean they always put me and my brother first, but I saw the special way he treated Mom. Guess it's still imprinted on my brain."

"That's not such a bad thing. In fact it's quite romantic."

"I'm still an old country boy at heart." He rested his chin on her shoulder. "If someone asked you today, tomorrow...next week to marry him, what would you say?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Someone? Who is this someone?"

"Just someone." He tapped her on the nose. "Answer the question."

"Who that someone may be is important. Daryl? Nah. Gabriel? Uh uh. Ezekiel? Hmm...well..."

"Hey!" He wrapped his arms tighter around her.

She laughed and broke free of him. His hands went to her waist as she stood between his legs. "If the  _someone_  who asked me was the  _someone_ I love more than I thought was possible then I could see myself saying yes. Because what makes that  _someone_  happy makes me happy. There's no doubt I want to spend the rest of my life with that  _someone._  So how could I not hell yes to that?"

He stood with his hands still clasping her waist. "Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah."

His smiled had the combination of joy and shyness that made her both want to hug him and tear off his clothes. "Good to know."

She pulled him towards the front door. "Come on. Let's go to bed. I want to fall asleep with your arms around me."

Once they were indoors Michonne took off her cardigan and hung it back on the coat rack as Rick locked the door.

"Think we can find a big, white dress somewhere after we're done with Negan?" He asked.

"No, but a long, slim fitting dress in a jewel tone, sleeveless with a slit up the side? I think we'd be able to find that."

He leaned against the door as he took her in from head to toe. "Even better."

"Or," she floated her hand in the air down her body like a magician presenting his best illusion. "I can just come as I am."

He grabbed her backside and chuckled at her squeal. "As long as your beautiful self is present you can wear anything you want. But hair still up though?" His finger traced a line from the start of her jawline, down her neck.

She grinned at him. "Yeah, I think that could be possible."

He pulled her flushed against his body and kissed her with the force of a man that had fallen so deeply in love there was no going back. His tongue slid against hers as he reluctantly pulled his mouth away so they could breath, but he kept a hold on her.

"I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow, but I do know that I want you to be my wife. I want whatever's left of the world to know you're the most important person in my life." He brushed his lips against hers. "Michonne, will you continue making me the luckiest man from here to Hilltop?"

"And beyond?"

"And beyond."

She wrapped her arms around his waist. "Hell yes."


End file.
